


Chasing the Sky

by PatchworkFelicity



Category: Mystic Messenger (Video Game)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, fluff for days, saeran's pov
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-12
Updated: 2017-04-12
Packaged: 2018-10-18 02:00:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10606974
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PatchworkFelicity/pseuds/PatchworkFelicity
Summary: A practice in restraint and thoughtfulness, or a 1000 word challenge posed to me by fellow AO3 author and MM fangirl, Effloresense.She gave me a prompt for Saeran and this happened. Inner-musings with our favorite, cranky Choi. I liked it enough to post it here. :)





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Effloresense](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Effloresense/gifts).



I’ve chased the sky for so long, being able to look at it now, unhindered, seems like some grand illusion or a waking dream. But it’s not just the sky anymore; it’s the wind and the rain, the sun and the earth. It’s too much and never enough; addictive in ways I’ve never known.  I don’t seek to leave the quiet of my room very often, but sometimes I need this, and thankfully she seems to always know just the spot.

I imagine she’d prefer to be out strolling the streets arm in arm like she might have done with someone else. For whatever reason she chooses to stick beside me, even if it’s always in a secluded park or on the outskirts of town where the city loses its harsh edges to a world that came before. I tell her she doesn’t have to play nice with me, but she persists. I've stopped trying to deter her. She’d never listen anyway.

I’m coaxed from my thoughts when another breeze ruffles my hair, throwing it into my eyes. When I reach up to brush it away I catch sight of her standing there, just a short ways off. It’s as though she knows it too, because she takes that exact moment to turn and make her way over to where I’ve been laying in the grass. She bends down to her knees beside me and I notice the small bundle of flowers she’s accumulated in one hand, plucked from the hillside. 

“You look like a content cat sprawled in a sunspot,” she says, hovering one of the daisies over me until it taps my nose and I swat it away. She grins and continues to taunt me with it until I take hold of her wrist. The hint of annoyance in my expression is enough to still her, causing the whimsical smile to wane. I can feel her pulse jump as the daisy drifts out of her now lax fingers.

It’s old habit, startling her like this. Part of me still enjoys it too much. Sitting up, I release my grip, hand slipping beneath hers, thumb crossing her palm. I feel her calm almost instantly, and when I look at her there’s a pretty blush awaiting me. We sit silently studying one another before time seems to whip itself back into motion. She glances away first, allowing me a chance to breathe again. 

“It’s so beautiful today.” I have no reply, too distracted by how the color in her cheeks matches the pink shade of her lip gloss. Thankfully, she is too busy fiddling with her flowers to notice I’m staring. I become engrossed in watching the grass as soon as she decides to look at me. 

“Your hair's a mess.” Arms rested upon bent knees, I tear green blades into confetti. Anything nice I might have said gets caught, banged up and twisted on that wall I built up years ago. There’s more holes in it these days, but the barbs still bite. She takes it in stride, looking thoughtful as she reaches up to smooth one, wayward lock. 

“You’re one to talk. There’s a bunch of grass in yours.” 

I frown, dusting at my hair before I realize she’s simply sassing me, looking smug at my rare gullibility. Embarrassment turns me into a juvenile. 

“Feh.  _ Yours _ is going to get so twisted a bird’s going to mistake it for a nest.”

“If you’re so concerned about my hair, why don’t  _ you _ fix it?” she challenges, turning where she kneels and settling down in front of me. I take the opportunity to let a smile crack halfway through my resolve. She’s so soft and yet so stupidly fierce sometimes.

She starts humming to herself, leaving me to do as I please. I don’t hurry to make a move. My eyes wander the long, shining strands that cascade across her shoulders, illuminated in the sunlight. 

When I dare to step a toe outside this facade of mine lately, it’s like a tightly flexed muscle finally getting a chance to relax. I try not to think too much about what it means - could mean - and only dwell on the way it feels. It’s the warmth of her back as I bring my hands close. It’s the weight and texture of her tresses when I slide my fingers beneath them and through, gently working away the wind-swept tangles.

I notice she quiets for a moment as I gather the hair back away from her face to join it with the rest. My hands caress her neck and shoulders only in passing and I somehow manage to keep myself from lingering. My focus instead draws into the task at hand, banishing anything else except the melody that returns with her voice. I’m feeling oddly calm, absorbed in the way I fold locks of her hair around my fingers and together again. 

When I run out of length, I tug one of the bands from my wrist with my teeth and wrap it at the end, tying off the braid. Surveying my handiwork, I have a thought.

“Give me those.” She peers over her shoulder as I prompt her, and I briefly lose my head to the clouds at how beautiful she looks. I hold out my hand and she sets the flowers in my palm before turning back around, obviously curious. Meticulously, I begin to weave the flowers into the dips of her hair I’ve created, working quickly so I don’t second-guess myself before it’s finished.

As soon as I’m satisfied, I’m all hands-off and I immediately scramble to my feet. My legs are unsteady, stumbling, and I make the mistake of sparing a glance at her as she looks up at me. Heat begins to rise, making my skin burn. I turn and stomp off to...I don’t know where. Away. Just away.

The sensation of her hair running through my fingers echoes.

_ Maybe one day, I can look at you...unhindered. _

  
  
  
  
  



End file.
